Every Reason
by want your rad bromance
Summary: -drabbles, Tesla and Orihime- I have every reason to hold you back... and every reason to keep you close to me. These are the reasons, the possibilities, what could have been between them, and what should have been between some others. Rated for safety.
1. Midnight Oil

A/N: So... this is a strange way to lose my bleach fic virginity... UlquiHime is my OTP, but after re-reading the Nnoitora segment, TeslaHime really grew on me... It's a lot like Nnoitora and Neliel, though I hope it won't end the same way... -__- These drabbles may or may not connect, and will be updated whenever I feel like TeslaHime.

About this one: I don't really know where it's set. It's AU to an extent, obviously. I guess you can just imagine the rest...

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**Midnight Oil**

He'd seen it every night the past week. As much as it annoyed him, Tesla couldn't help but to lay there and watch the soft light coming from the tower room until his eyelid dropped and he fell asleep. The next morning when he arose, the light was gone, but he somehow knew she was still working. Working on... whatever it was she did up there that consumed her time so voraciously. To him, it seemed sufficient proof that women really were foolish and inferior. After all, if she was going to do something productive, she'd be training to increase her strength, not loafing about. He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that urged him to find out what she was up to, maybe even to see if she was alright. Tesla quashed the thought- as if he'd ever be caught worrying over a woman! Eventually, she'd come down from her tower room and back into his daily life, filling in the cracks of time he wasn't with Nnoitora-sama like a smiling, obnoxious putty. He'd been around forever before she waltzed into his life...

So why did this short time without her seem even longer? A frown crossed Tesla's features, and he ran a gloved finger through his scruffy hair, making it even wavier than before. His single brown eye scanned the empty hallway cautiously, affirming that he was indeed, alone. Slowly, almost reluctantly, his gaze shifted out the window and up to the tower. Sure enough, the light was there, surrounding her balcony with a golden halo and casting shadows on the wall. He stood there for some time, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other hanging listlessly at his side. Tesla turned again to check the hallway before quietly, almost tiptoeing, setting off in the general direction of the woman's room. He took detours, he waited at random places, he stopped by windowsills. But at each one, that light was shining at him, seemingly blown in by the night air.

At last, he stood outside her door. No noise came from within. He considered knocking for a brief moment, then shook his head, trying to ignore the obnoxious blush rising on his cheeks. Turning the knob slowly, Tesla entered the room... And felt the blush on his cheeks triumph and spread all over his face. There she was, sitting on a crude workbench, arms pillowing her head, orange hair caressing the table, eyes closed delicately. Cautiously, he approached the sleeping woman, telling himself with every step that he _just_ wanted to see what had been preoccupying her. He had absolutely no interest in the way her eyelashes curled like that, how he desperately wanted to take off his gloves and touch her face, or the overwhelming need to taste her lips, slightly parted... Tesla leaned over the table, deliberately avoiding any contact with her. Papers were strewn about, ones written all over in tiny script that he vaguely recognized as Szayel Aporro's. All the documents were related to eyes and visual structures, each with precise diagrams of knowledge the Octava Espada had gleaned from his experiments. It came to him in that split second; what she'd been doing. He didn't know how he knew, or why she wold do such a thing, but it appeared as if she was intent on doing it anyways.

She was making him a new eye. Tesla's hand traveled up to his eyepatch, running his fingers over the cloth that covered scarred and empty tissue. Utterly despite himself, he was flattered... no, _amazed_ that she'd do something like this for someone she hardly knew. He glanced back at her sleeping face, so delicate and crumpled. She had long since burned her midnight oil, and he realized now that everything about her looked utterly spent. No one was in the room, but again, he looked around cautiously before he moved again. Doing his best to be gentle and not awaken the sleeping girl (he didn't want to wake her up, she'd never shut up if he did.), Tesla picked her up and carried her over to the small bed in the corner of the room. With some difficulty, he managed to pull back the covers and set her down on the mattress. He couldn't help but to watch the slow rise and fall of her chest, or the way her body relaxed, knowing that it was on a comfortable surface at last. The Arrancar stood there until he lost track of the time. Finally, hesitantly. he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. His lips lingered on her skin until he forced himself to pull away. Shaking his head to himself, he pulled the covers over her sleeping form and turned off the light at long last. It wasn't until he left the room that he could justify to himself that no one had seen him, and so no one would ever know.

The next morning, Orihime awoke with the feeling of Tesla's lips on her forehead.


	2. Observe

A/N: Back with another one! This one's actually T, and it's fairly obvious why. (Yes, I'm so naughty...) Again, this is set in AU to some degree, but I'm not sure just how much. I think the image this gives is really sweet -hint hint wink wink-. So, I know this is a weird couple, and congrats to anyone who's made it to the second drabble. Please drop me a review, even if it's just to say 'TeslaHime? Da F*ck??' xD

~Naoko

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**Observe**

Oftentimes, they'd lie together in bed at night, completely silent. She'd be snuggled into his chest, and his arms would be wrapped loosely around her torso. One would always fall asleep first, giving the other a chance to simply observe.

Orihime would look up at his face and enjoy the serenity of his expression. Sleep was one of the few things that erased the militarily disciplined frown off his face and replaced it with a more accurate portrait of his inner sensitivity. She'd trace the outline of the eyepatch, go over the bridge of his nose, up to the bumpy remnants of his mask, before her fingers entwined themselves with his tawny locks. His hair was coarse, but not overbearingly so. It knotted surprisingly easily, keeping her occupied until she fell asleep with gently undoing each knot. It amused her to no end to hear the noises he made in his sleep. Though she'd never tell him, she found his little snores to be the absolute sweetest thing she'd ever heard. She had long since gotten over the flustered embarrassment of being in such close contact with his body, but that didn't prevent her from blushing whenever her fingertips brushed his hips. Her hands would travel upwards again, to his chest, where she'd ball them into loose fists, holding nothing and everything at once.

Tesla would watch her wide grey eyes set like the full moon into that time just between night and dawn. He'd inevitably find his hands wandering over her body, not urgently as before, but slowly and patiently, taking in every curve and contour. Her hair was rather long, and he offhandedly wondered how long it had taken to get it that way. He'd experimented with long hair, but in forty or so years, it hadn't grown an inch, and he'd given up. Maybe it had something to do with him being an Arrancar, barely human. Of course, that didn't stop _other_ human functions from working properly, a part of him would tease. He'd flush furiously and banish the thought. This path would eventually lead to her face, the soft skin, lightly shut eyes, those lips that he'd discovered were _very_ hard to stop kissing once he'd started. The orange locks looked strange without the two crystaline flowers nestled in their midst, and her hair would fall easily between his fingers, eager to meet him as any other part of her. Eventually, he'd return to his original position. Carefully, he'd slide an arm between her and the mattress, and the other would drape over her waist, loose but at the same time firm and possessive.

Dawn would eventually reach out to caress both their faces, and one would awaken first, giving them the chance to observe again. Or, in Orihime's case, to tumble out of bed, taking the sheets with her.


	3. Shampoo

A/N: I am a naughty, naughty girl. :3 I'm actually kind of embarrassed that I wrote it... -//////////////////- xD

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**Shampoo****  
**

When she had been a little girl, Orihime had often taken baths with her older brother. The memories were vague, only snatches of sound, smell, and colour, but she could always recall the feel of his stomach against her back.

Now, granted, this was an entirely different situation. She reminded herself occasionally that this had been _her _idea, but that only made her begin to blush all over again. Tesla, she had discovered, was actually quite a bit shyer about the opposite sex than she was; he, too, would flush over, and the bathroom was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the pink bubbles in the tub. She shifted slightly to lift a foot out of the water and pop a pinkish bubble comically with her toe. She felt the muscles of his chest move as he readjusted himself. Looking back and up, Orihime met his lone brown eye questioningly. Tesla shrugged nonchalantly, and, after a moment's hesitation, wrapped an arm around her waist. Willing to accept his wordless explanation to her wordless question, she sighed contentedly and snuggled back into him.

She could never understand how he could be so stubbornly chauvinistic in public, but so soft and gentle when they were alone. Keeping up appearances had never been something Orihime worried about. Sitting up from her reclined position, Orihime reached forwards for a small bottle of shampoo. The plastic container made a _phwoof_ noise when she upended it and squeezed out some of its contents. Giggling lightly, she turned back to Tesla and, reaching up, placed her shampoo-laden hands on top of his wet tawny locks. The Arrancar stiffened slightly.

"What are you doing?" he asked, embarrassment creeping around the edges of his voice.

"I'm shampooing your hair," she replied nonchalantly, working her fingers over his scalp. Tesla opened his mouth to say more, but gave up and relaxed. Orihime smiled smugly, feeling more at ease herself. His eye shut slowly, and the rhythm of his breathing fell into synch with the soothing circles made by Orihime's touch. The silence this time seemed far more aged, not awkward and flushed as it had been before, but serene and complacent, each accepting of the other.

A playful grin sprung to Orihime's lips, and she slowly removed her hands. Tesla moved slightly, but otherwise appeared to nearly be asleep. She paused for a moment to admire him- the sharp cheeks, slender torso, subtly muscled arms, ... and her eyes hurriedly traveled upwards again to the comical spectacle of his hair, which was currently more of a white, foamy lather than its usual dirty blonde waves. Leaning back and to the side, she cupped her hands and placed them underwater. They re-emerged laden with now lukewarm liquid. Face still lit with mirth, she moved slowly until her cupped palms hovered ominously over Tesla's foam-coated head.

The Arrancar's shocked reaction had her laughing until she cried, much to his embarrassment.


	4. Eat

A/N: Heh, finally, I'm back with _Every Reason_! After _The Ash_, I found it kinda impossible to break away from UlquiHime (super OTP) for a while. However, Tesla seriously needs my Orihime's loving attention again, so...

About this one: The image of Tesla looking into Orihime's eyes and getting bowled over really appealed to me. I think he's just very heavily in denial about the idea of caring for someone other than Nnoitora... xD However, he doesn't know that Nnoitora has a thing for Neliel... I wonder if that would change his opinion? Oh, and I have no idea what they feed Orihime in Las Noches. Juice is a safely generic foodstuff. I almost used 'bagel' instead, for some reason... Ah, well. Enjoy~

Oh, PS: This is set entirely in canon-verse.

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**Eat**

Every fiber of his disciplined body had told him not to be here, but his rebellious mind had brought him to her precipice, a tray of food balanced perfectly on one gloved hand. Reaching up, he rapped on the door. A weak noise came from the room in response, so soft and pathetic; he wondered if he'd imagined it. With a sigh, Tesla opened the door and walked inside.

She was on the white couch, and could have been a protrusive part of it were it not for the auburn locks tumbling down over her face, tips caressing the cold stone floor. His cheeks tinged a gentle pink at the sight, much to his chagrin. There was nothing that this woman- this _girl_- should have made him feel beyond contempt. Desperately, he wracked his mid for a reason, any reason, to justify himself, to keep him as perfect a carbon copy of Nnoitora-sama as possible. Tesla decided that the room was unusually warm, even as a convulsive shudder ran through the pitiful lump on the couch.

"Woman, I have your food." She sat up with a start, clearly expecting the Cuatro, clearly surprised to see him instead.

"Oh, Tesla-kun."

He really wished she wouldn't call him that.

"Um, you can just set it down there, I guess. I'm not really hungry or anything, so..." Orihime's stomach growled loudly, causing the girl to flush and wrap her arms around her waist, as if trying to muffle any further sounds.

"You're a horrible liar." Tesla informed her, setting down the tray, even as his body berated him for obeying the orders of someone besides Nnoitora-sama. Much to his surprise, she smiled sheepishly up at him, and he turned away quickly. This had been a bad, bad idea. He wanted nothing to do with her, and Nnoitora-sama would be wondering where he was.

"Tesla...kun?" He rotated again to look at her. She did not look resentful, she did not look condescending, only... sad. Even as she addressed him, her eyes were downcast, lips slightly parted and turned downwards. She had made no move for her food, and Tesla suspected that she either threw it away or forced herself to throw it up.

"Eat it." He told her flatly. Orihime's grip on herself tightened, and she began to curl up again. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was just about the stupidest thing he could possibly do. "Eat it," he repeated. Then, after a pause: "...Please?" She inhaled sharply, and lifted her head up to look him straight in the eyes.

All of a sudden, he was drowning in two grey oceans; his head was light as he stood in grey fog kissing high altitudes. He broke eye contact in a hurry, wondering if she was using some sort of human power over him to make him feel this way. Cautiously, Tesla met her eyes again. It was still there, though to a lesser degree. That warm gravitation that pulled him in to her, that made him search for a reason, every reason, to justify these bizarre feelings.

Orihime smiled at him and tried to ignore the way her heart did flip-flops when he blushed.

"Can you pass the juice, Tesla-kun?"


	5. Dream

Ooh la la, angst! Poor Tesla, I torture him so. Next time will be from Orihime's side, though... for once. xD And... *gasp* Is _Every Reason_ actually starting to get a plot? pff, no. This is sort of connected to "Eat", and partly to "Midnight Oil", but only in the idea that he's picked her up. Again, this one is in full canon-verse. Enjoy!

~Naoko

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**Dream**

_She only looks more radiant in the stark silver of Las Noches' peripherally full moon. When she leans forward, her long auburn locks cascade down past her shoulders to brush his face like loving fingers. He groans slightly and turns his head to catch more of the rays of her sun. For all the time he spends out on the artificially lit sands of Hueco Mundo, they are aptly named compared to her radiance, gentle yet overpowering all at once. She lets out a gentle sigh and slowly lowers herself back onto him, into his arms. All over again, his body must master itself and cease the violent rippling of each electrical pool where she touches him. Her lips bloom like flower petals on his cheeks, and he is all too willing to turn to her, accepting yet another deliciously tender kiss. His hand slowly detach themselves from one another to meld into her back, her sides, her skin, and for the first time in his life, he questions everything he's ever been taught or told about women. How could they be such vile creatures as Nnoitora-sama says if she can touch him like this, make him feel like this? She exhales, and the sound of her breath swirls in the warm, intimate air between them and becomes his name, carried on golden-orange rays of a power somewhere far above him. _

"_Tesla…"_

He sat up with a start. His whole body was covered in sweat; not that of fear, but of sweet sensuality. Sighing heavily, he buried his face in his hands. He can't stop dreaming about her, this silly human girl he has only caught fleeting glances of.

No, that's a lie. He had carried her, held her sleeping form, drowned in her grey eyes. This had gone too far, and yet all Tesla wanted is for it to go a step further, for the fantasies that played out on the backs of his eyelids burst forth into reality, onto that white couch. Nnoitora-sama called him, bringing him back to reality. He felt eternally grateful to his master for this latest grace to repel the vapourous images that hung over his sleep like a cloud.

For that was all they were; wisps of imagination, because Arrancar did not dream.


	6. Please

Augh, finally! A new drabble! And, as promised, from Orihime's POV~ I think the next one is going to be this series of events, but from Tesla's perspective~ This is what I thought would have happened had Starrk not intercepted Hime- TeslaHime headcanon or not. Orihime isn't brainless, but I think she would have saved him. Also, thanks to everybody who has reviewed these so far! It makes me happy to get your feedback, since I write for obscure ships, and hence never get reviews.

~Naoko

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The brawny Shinigami that had saved them had ordered her to heal him, and of course, she would obey. But the entire time, her focus lay on the blond Arrancar bleeding sluggishly into the sands not ten yards away. Kurosaki-kun, Kenpachi-taichou, and Yachiru-chan had all seemed to have forgotten about him, but Orihime could not help but stare. The look in his remaining brown eye twisted her heart and stomach into knots; so full of pain, love, and sadness, she almost felt like crying herself. As she thought about it, she came to the realization that she had never seen an Arrancar cry before. Ulquiorra's cheeks were eternally stained with emerald tears, and his face never seemed to deviate from its lachrymose countenance. But this boy who had been so calm and in control a short while ago was now honestly crying, tears dripping from his eyelashes onto his forehead, as if the whole world had been turned upside down in his agony and confusion. Her heart went out to him, and so did Shun'ou and Ayame. Orihime could have sworn she saw doubt on the fairies' faces; it was certainly accompanied by shock on those of her companions. Nonetheless, she strode back over to the Arrancar- Tesla, that was his name- and knelt beside him. A small part of her asked her why she was doing this for someone who had captured her, who had hurt Kurosaki-kun.

It was because he had said please, she decided. Since Ulquiorra accosted her in the Daigon, no one had asked her politely for anything. As a prisoner, she had hardly expected it, but it nonetheless conjured up memories of middle school, the angry upperclassmen that had grabbed her hair in hanks and sawed it off, cackling like crows. They had not asked her permission, they had not been kind. Yet somehow, this Arrancar, despite having held her hostage, did not harm her when she had been planning to deviate from her own morals to attack him. It had still been a threat, of course, but she could not remove his simple "please" from her mind. He was staring her at utter shock from the other side of her Souten Kisshun, a mix of disbelief, fear, and gratitude swirling about in his lone brown eye. Awkwardly, she smiled at him, not knowing how to express her sentiment. He might find it foolish, but kindness was enough of a reason for her to save a life. He sat up to look at her closer, and on pure impulse, she dropped the barrier between them. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse; whether with gratitude or sadness, she could not tell. Maybe both? Orihime knew all too well how it was to feel so many things at once.

"Why?" He asked simply. He didn't sound angry, she decided, he just wanted to know. She waited a moment before coming up with a suitable reply.

"You said please," she responded, completely unaware that she was now crying, too.


	7. Constant

...Holy crap, _Every Reason_ is back! I'm really out of practice with these two, so kindly forgive the high possibility of fail. xD I'll be getting back into a more constant cycle with this series, though- no more five-month breaks. As for this particular drabble... All I had in mind was a pre-established relationship after the Winter War. If anyone would also like to suggest a title/prompt for a drabble, please do- I'm afraid I've gotten rather unoriginal...

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**Constant**

There was something infinitely more satisfying in knowing the little quirks of his mind over those of his body, the things that told her again and again that he was no monster. He was a light sleeper, for instance- oftentimes, all it took to awake him was a simple shift in the bed, the half-conscious slide of her hand down his chest, or sometimes things she couldn't pick up on at all. She would crack open a sleep-coated eye to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the moon with something between pain and acceptance until she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder. No matter the occasion, or what he was wearing, Tesla always smelled the same- like fresh-pressed linen with just a hint of musk underneath. For someone with such a seemingly austere face, he blushed quite easily if provoked into doing so, and in those moments, she could catch just a glimpse of the boy he might have been, the one she was slowly drawing out once more from a void of instinct and longing.

Their castle was lonely, inhabited by a scarce few Arrancar who had somehow survived both Soul Society and Aizen, each of whom lived on somewhere between fear and once again seeking a way to fill the voids of their hearts. He rarely spoke of his place as a survivor, but the lingering guilt was always there, curling around the edges of his one brown eye or hesitantly following the trail of her finger down the scar he'd insisted she not heal. Orihime would have questioned it once, aloud or within the soft sunshine cushions of her mind, but the ghost of her own loss that wafted between her footsteps like ash kept her silent, understanding. Tesla had slowly become a constant in her life, hesitant step by hesitant step. The phrase "birds of a feather stick together" came to her mind whenever he stood beside her, hands clasped patiently behind his back, though oftentimes, she wondered who had really lost the most. Those thoughts would slip past the smudged sunlight of her mind to take their leave whenever he laid down beside her, at first with the poise of a toy soldier, but eventually slipping into the finesse of a lover. Her fingers would trace the rim of his Hollow hole, and his eye would follow, round and round until their lips met, having found silent justification permeated only by a gentle moan or a soft sigh as the sheets rustled a soft welcome to something she couldn't place as either a beginning or an end.


End file.
